This year at Rivendell school we have started a weekly writing program, where for one day a week the students join a writing workshop and have the opportunity to engage in a wide range of tasks designed to help them build literacy skills; feel confident with their writing; and express themselves using a range of different writing modes.
The students are given a choice of what type of writing they would like to do in the sessions, and so we have had students focus on fantasy stories, slice-of-life stories, poems, opinion pieces, cover letters for employment, and even script writing.
Here is a small sample of the wide ranging and fabulous work some of our students have completed so far!
My blanket pooled around my feet, almost feeding the ground. The bed under me feels springy, or unsteady even. The rattling won’t stop. Whatever is behind this door can’t, or won’t, be quiet. I grip onto the cold, brass handle of the door, noticing the chipped, worn out paint at the edges of the door frame. “It’s now or never” I think as I count down – 3, 2, 1, CREEEAAK.
I fling the door open to reveal … nothing?!
Standing at the door all I can hear is silence, besides my heavy breathing. A small chandelier swings from left to right, the light warm but somehow haunting. I peer around the room, nothing but a dingy old chair and an unlit fireplace.
I see the trampoline
And notice the athletic springs
I feel like bouncing
Reaching for the sky
I smell the sharp heaviness
But sprinkle it
Like powdery grain
So all that is left
Is the chrome radiance of the sky.
It was a cool afternoon and I was standing in my kitchen making a sandwich. I couldn’t believe we were out of butter again because Jason, the little brute, kept using it all up. I couldn’t even yell at him because he wasn’t there, and neither were my parents. Everyone was at the local fair; I couldn’t go because of a broken arm. I hated missing out because I wouldn’t get to go on the Dipper Of Death. I took the Vegemite out instead. It was difficult to spread with my broken arm, but I managed.
With my sandwich complete, I took a huge bite and then, suddenly, a red mist appeared around it and quickly spread around my kitchen. The strange red mist manifested into a large horned creature with hooves. The fiery creature proclaimed in a deep, booming voice “WHO DARES TO SUMMON AZAZOU, THE WICKED”. I stood still, paralysed with fear, as the creature walked closer and closer. I couldn’t comprehend if I was dreaming or not. Azazou walked closer, leaving a trail of the strange red mist behind him. I thought quickly and grabbed the plate I was using for my sandwich and launched it at the beast’s head. Azazou caught the plate, and laughed.
INT OFFICE AFTERNOON
Clover and Cliff are sitting next to each other in their office cubicle. Ordinary office life is playing out all around them; phones are ringing, people are working in other cubicles and some people walk around in the background. Clover is sitting up working very hard and is focussed on his computer screen. Cliff is slouched in his chair, scrolling around on the internet and only pretends to have his work up when his boss walks past.
GARY (rushing over to the cubicle, screaming) Guys, guys, have you seen the news?
CLIFF (disinterested, barely looking up) What Gary?
GARY I’ve just heard on the news…. that we have only 3 hours of daylight left, forever.
CLOVER You’re kidding Gary, this is the 10th time you’ve interrupted us with a joke this week. I’m not falling for it any more.
Class ’till 5pm, bed at 8pm. Every day the same. Prissy found herself wondering what was outside of the school walls, and what secrets lay within. Clearwater College For Girls, was the most prestigious school in the state and Priscilla happened to find herself having a place, given her parents were the primary investors and an ally to the school. Not that she cared, being sent off to boarding school was their plan for her from the start.
This was her second year at Clearwater, and when she saw the First Years flood the hall, amazement stained their faces. She remembered her first semester, all new independence, or so she thought. The novelty quickly wore off.
“Prissy? Prissy!” she heard a voice shriek.
It was Diana, her childhood best friend. Her curls bounced as she ran into Prissy’s arms. Finally, Prissy thought, something to be happy about. Diana’s smile lit up every room.
“You’re in my dorm this year!” Diana explained, absolutely beaming. “And we are in the secondary tower now. I haven’t brought up my luggage either” she said, pointing to Prissy’s large, navy briefcase hanging from her left hand.
Priscella was already counting down the hours, dreading having to change into her uniform. She was in a horrible mood, but she shook her head and left it behind. Today was going to be fun.